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Alberic Grunnion, famous within his own lifetime for the invention of the Dungbomb, was well used to mail. Some were from irate parents asking what had possessed him to create such a mess-maker; some were from fans gushing with success stories in revenges or pranks; some were from those who wanted to attach a famous name to their inventions in the making.

But one day, Al received a book. There was no note attached, but he was greatly pleased with the gift. His wife knew it would be useless to keep him from opening it right then and devouring it right then. It didn’t look that interesting to her – Sonnets of a Sorcerer wasn’t her cup of tea.

At long last, Al put the book down. He looked up at his wife and smiled lovingly before asking,

“Dear, what are we eating tonight?
My hunger is blinding my sight.
There’s always that restaurant
Over by Belmont
If the pickings at home are too light.”

His wife went wide-eyed and stared at him in horror. Was that a limerick? Had he come up with that on the spot? As far as she knew, her husband had never been poetic. And to write a poem about dinner? That was a tad strange.

Al blinked at his wife and her quizzical stare. He opened his mouth once more, tentatively checking his nose for something unpleasant.

“Why are you looking so strangely at me?
What’s wrong with my face that you see?
Well, whatever the trouble,
Tell me on the double,
My darling, divulge it quickly.”

“Dearest,” his wife began, trembling, “why are you speaking in limericks?”

His mouth opened as he recalled what he’d said recently. Mrs. Grunnion watched in pity as he tried to work his tongue around a normal-sounding sentence and couldn’t manage it. Finally he cried in disgust,

“This strict meter is giving me pause!
That book over there is the cause.
I need this curse broken
Some magic words spoken
Or my life will ever have flaws.”

“We’ll try, darling, we’ll try,” his wife hastened to assure him, trying to mask her hopelessness. Whoever had sent the book as a “gift” must have been truly angered by a Dungbomb. She doubted that there would be a countercurse.

“You could always try just keeping your mouth shut,” she continued with a shadow of a smile.

Al hung his head in despair. There was no hope for him - he'd be speaking limericks the rest of his life.

Padma watched in shock as her twin sister sat down at the Gryffindor table, while she remained at the Ravenclaw table. She couldn’t believe they had been sorted into different houses. This would be the first time they were ever apart.

Padma and Parvati had always shared a lot of the same interests. They both liked to read and draw pictures. And they both just had a way of understanding each other. When they had gotten their letters, Padma was sure they would be in the same house. She never imagined them being apart...until now.

Padma sighed as she wondered what it would be like to hardly see her twin. Sure, they’d have some classes together, but they wouldn’t spend near as much time together as they used to. Now she’d have to make new friends, which would be hard without Parvati at her side. She had always relied on her sister to do the talking when they met new people. Padma was a bit shy, but Parvati made things easier.

Just then, Padma saw a girl sit down next to her.

If I want friends, I better get used to talking to people without Parvati. Padma thought.

“Hi, I’m Padma.”

“I’m Helen,” The girl said with a shy smile.

The two girls talked for a few minutes, and Padma realized that it really wasn’t too hard. Maybe she could make friends without her sister’s help. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t miss her.

Padma glanced over at the Gryffindor table, and noticed Parvati talking to a giggly girl named Lavender that she and Parvati had met on the train. They both seemed to be having a good time.

Parvati looked over and caught Padma’s eye. She smiled and winked at her. Padma smiled back and realized that even though they were apart, they would always have their special connection.

Hoping to catch up with her sister, Lily broke into a run once she passed the playground gates.

“Petunia! Wait!” She shouted, hoping her sister would slow down enough for her to catch up. They could walk home for tea, together.

“Go away, you freak!” Petunia shouted back at her, pausing for a bare moment to turn back towards her. “Leave me alone!”

Lily stopped dead in her tracks. Her sister – her only, but still favourite sister – had called her what?

‘Freak.’

The word reverberated in her head. Like a bell, tolling the hour, ‘freak-freak-freak.’

The letter. That letter that came through the letterbox yesterday. The letter that changed what school she would be attending next year. She would not be going on to Avondale School for Girls. She would not be applying for a scholarship at one of the more prestigious girls’ boarding schools her parents wanted their girls to attend.

Petunia hadn’t wanted to attend boarding school. Not because she feared homesickness, she said, but because she was so devoted to her younger sister, and her parents.

“There’s plenty of time for me to live away from home when I’m married,” Petunia had said when she was close to finishing primary school. Lily had always thought that it was because she hadn’t been accepted to Avondale School, nor had she managed to achieve grades to secure a scholarship spot. But Lily kept her mouth closed on that, and had been honored by Petunia’s choice to remain at a local school. Lily, on the other hand, worked harder to secure the right grades, and couldn’t wait for the application process to begin. She wanted to go away to school. She loved her sister, she would do anything for her sister and had always looked up to her sister. In her eyes, Petunia was perfect, even when she didn’t get accepted to Avondale. They didn’t know what they were missing in her sister. Better that she stayed home until Lily went away to school.

And then that letter came. Delivered, not by the postman, but by an owl. And her parents had been so delighted.

“We always knew you were special, Lilykins!” Her mother had squealed.

“Well done, Popkin,” her father had beamed.

“Petunia, congratulate your sister,” her mother had admonished, and through clenched teeth and clenched fists Petunia had turned on her sister.

“Good luck,” was all she’d managed.

‘Freak-freak-freak-freak,” the word kept bouncing in her head. Lily started walking towards home again, no longer trying to catch up to her sister. That letter had changed everything.

The sun was shining outside the window of the Burrow and birds were singing in the trees, as if announcing their happiness to the world. The vegetation that Molly Weasley could see and the clean air she was breathing were enough to lift anyone spirits up. However Molly was not smiling.

To her this was the first day of being completely alone during summer. She sighed deeply, resting her elbows on the windowpanes and watching a pigeon nearby feed her three young ones. She wished she had someone she could still look after, but alas all she had now was herself, and Arthur whenever he could get himself off work. Even when he was home, they would both look at each other in a lost way, their ears not accustomed to the odd silence that reverberated around them

It seemed that after Bill and Fleur’s wedding, everyone had gone their own ways, leaving her with nothing to occupy her endless days. She did not resent any of them, on the contrary, was very glad that Ron and Ginny had become important Quidditch players, that Charlie, Fred and George had each created their own families, that Percy was travelling somewhere in Scotland. It just seemed unnatural to her.

She has accepted it all during the war, knowing that each of their contributions was important, and she had been very busy herself. But now, that it was all over and that her family had come out of it with curable injuries, she needed something to occupy herself with.

Turning around, her eyes took in the table and its nine chairs, and her eyes slowly filled with tears as she saw it empty and lifeless. Memories took hold of her and she smiled through her tears as she remembered raising each of her children and how she had often wished that it were easier on her.

Grabbing her wand and purse, she headed out of her house, deciding to finally do something with her life, and she pushed the memories away from her. It was really a sad thing that she was alone, but she knew that her children would always need her, she thought as she went to visit Fred and inquire after his breathing problems.

Life on the run is a hard thing, Draco Malfoy decided while crouching inside a cave, feeding on a piece of moulted cheese he had found, in the ruins of a nearby house. However, he had no other choice but to keep running—running and wondering if he would ever get rid of the smell of sweat on heated skin, of the dirt that seemed to crawl under his skin, or of the habit he had picked up of eating his food as though it was going to be taken away from him.

He, Draco Malfoy, proud son of Lucius and pureblood heir of the Malfoy name, reduced to sleeping on tree branches and caves, eating whatever garbage he could find, not knowing if the next day would find him alive or dead. He was afraid to show himself to anyone fore fear of talking to a traitor, but kept his constant lookout for Harry Potter. Although he hated to admit it, Potter was the only person that could get him out of this mess. As much as Draco liked being independent, he appreciated his life more, and having clean clothes even more.

Having finished his dinner, he slumped on the back wall of his newfound cave, left alone to think about the misery of what he had come to call life, dreaming of warm beds, long baths and proper food. His imagination was not helping much though, as he could not clearly remember the smell of soap, the feel of clean sheets under him, or the taste of proper food. He looked at his long, blonde hair so covered in grime, one could not tell its colour anymore. His hands clenched around them, as he made himself a promise. If it were the last thing he would do, he would get out of this disaster he had dug himself into. And with that, and not much else, given to the fact that he had not slept for three days, his eyelids began to close, and he had long dreams of Voldemort chasing him with soap and water.

The glory was Harry’s. It had been since he was a child – The Boy Who Lived. It had been chanted in the streets, told as bedtime stories for children, and when Harry had entered the world of magic, he’d been a star. He’d hated it. He’d hid. In their friendship he’d found the refuge he needed. His glory was greater tonight. The Man that Defeated Voldemort. The Greatest Wizard that Ever Lived. Tonight their friendship wasn’t enough. Tonight he hid with Ginny. Tonight he was happy.

The glory was Ron’s. All his life he’d been living in the shadow of others. Not Head Boy like Bill or Percy. Not Quidditch Captain like Charlie. Not as funny as Fred and George. Not as famous as his best friend. Tonight was different. Tonight he was the one that helped end the war. The one that avenged his brother when he killed Greyback. The one who freed the world from the horrors of The Werewolf. Not a werewolf – The Werewolf. The one that scared people the most because he targeted their children. Tonight the glory was Ron’s. Tonight he hid in his room.

The glory was hers. From the moment she stepped into Hogwarts she knew she was different. A Muggleborn. A bookworm. An annoying little swot that was hard on rules and low on fun. Harry and Ron had seen her differently, but to the rest of the school she’d been the annoying know-it-all that gained all the teachers’ attention. Tonight nothing had changed. Tonight everything had changed. Tonight people celebrated her wit and cleverness. The brain behind Harry Potter. The mastermind behind the victory. The one that rid the world of Bellatrix Black. Tonight the glory was hers. Tonight she hid – not in her room, but in Ron’s.

He was surprised when she came to him. More surprised when she undressed as she walked over to his bed. He stuttered and flushed and wondered if she really wanted to… Tonight she didn’t hesitate. Tonight she didn’t think. Tonight was about life, about love, about them. Tonight was glorious.

Author Name: Millieweasley
House: Ravenclaw

Title: Wedding Jitters
Word length: 281
Warnings: None

Remus swallowed, hard. He didn't know why he was so nervous. It was Tonks, for crying out loud! They lived together, they were going to have a child together - so why was he so bloody nervous?

Closing his eyes, he remembered James at his wedding. He'd been a nervous wreck, even thinking about calling the whole thing off and just eloping. Sirius had laughed his head off, telling him that they could borrow his motorcycle if they wanted to.

"I've heard there's a place in the US, where you can get married by someone dressed as a famous Muggle ," he'd laughed, earning him a tossed pillow in the face.

"Just tell me you have the ring, Padfoot!"

"Oh, no! I forgot that, I must have left it at the bird's place when I left this morning!"

It would have been funny, had he not been forced to grab a hold of James just to keep him from killing Sirius with his bare hands. Sirius, however, had folded over with laughter. James had ended up throwing up before they were ready to go to the church.

He had laughed at James, thought him silly. And here he was, just as nervous himself. Taking a deep breath he wished he wasn't doing this alone. He wished Sirius was there to jerk him around. That James were there to laugh at Sirius' juvenile jokes and stop him from punching Sirius' lights out. When the knock on the door was heard he stood up, taking another deep breath. At least he hadn't thrown up yet, he though as he made his way out to the crowd, checking his pocket to make sure he had the ring.